Not Meant for Taverns
by rosexknight
Summary: Lacey works in a tavern and seems to be cursed to be haunted by a select few patrons.


Not Meant for Taverns

By: RosexKnight

 _Lacey works in a tavern and seems to be cursed to be haunted by a select few patrons._

"Get out!"

"Bloody hell, Lacey!"

Not many waitresses would have stood up to the pirates. Perhaps it was because she'd dealt with them before. Perhaps it was because she seemed to be everywhere, working in every tavern they seemed to turn, almost haunting these pirates. Though, it was honestly just because she was Lacey, and no one crossed Lacey. That was made quite apparent by the way she was holding nothing more than an empty bottle of mead, brandishing it like a sword.

"I said get out, Jones." She said, glaring down the man.

He seethed, but the anger was gone after a moment. He only scowled at her as the rest of his crew began to stand behind him.

"Take your wench." Lacey repeated in a tone that signified it'd be her last time before she used the bottle she'd jutted into his face. "And get out of my tavern."

"You bloody-!"

"Come on, Captain." One of the men said from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go."

Slowly, the group shuffled out, the woman following them. However, she seemed to pause as they turned towards the docks, choosing instead to go down the path for the town. A low murmur rose in the tavern, and then it grew, going back to its normal volume. Lacey sighed, turning her attention away from the now empty table to the heap on the floor. The cause of it all, it seemed. Nothing but a lump of burlap and wool on the floor, probably staying where he deemed it safe. Slowly, he moved, his eyes finding hers.

"Come on." Lacey said, bending down to catch his arm and practically haul him out the back of the tavern.

She ignored the eyes on her and did her best to keep an even yet slow pace for him. She didn't want to drag him, though she'd never admit it. People couldn't know she had a soft spot. It would ruin everything.

"I told you not to come around here." Lacey began as they made their way through the kitchen and out the back door.

She turned to him, allowing him to right himself and even going as far as to brush some of the dirt from his forehead. The man always looked dirty, but well-kept. He obviously cared about grooming despite his appearance. She didn't know much about him. Only that he was a spinner with a limp who the whole town hated. Something about being a coward for running during the Ogres War. She didn't believe all the rumors, but she couldn't deny he was skittish. He only leaned against his walking stick, unable to look at her. Lacey frowned.

"They're going to kill you one day." She scolded, causing him to flinch at her tone. She sighed, producing a piece of bread from her apron pocket. "Here."

He didn't take the bread, only looked up at him. Lord she didn't even know his name.

"What were you doing here tonight?"

There was a pause, and then "She's my wife…"

This caught Lacey off-guard. Something in her realized she should have known. Hadn't someone mentioned his wife preferring taverns to his company? Lacey could understand hating the looks of everyone in town. She understood that more than she'd like to admit. But this man wasn't...terrible looking. Perhaps if he cleaned up more and gained some confidence the walking stick could somehow work for him.

"My boy...he's so young. He needs his mother."

Lacey nodded. Every child needed their mother…

"Stay out of trouble." Lacey finally said, placing the bread in his hand. "I won't always be around to help you."

He only nodded, and she turned, going back into the world that was the tavern and drunk catcalls and the occasional slap on the arse from a creep she hated unless he was too cute for his own good. Yes. Back to her normal life…

"Get out of here."

"I can't."

Lacey frowned at him. How many bloody times had she told him to stay away from the tavern? As long as she's been there she'd never seen a man so shunned by a town as he was. Coming around always caused nothing but trouble for him. She was impressed, really. Not many would have his persistence and courage to keep coming to a place he was so obviously hated.

When he tried to step around her, she blocked his path. To anyone else, it would seem she was keeping him out, but the look she gave him she knew he understood. His...whatever she was was in there. With a pirate. Again. Gods above he didn't deserve this.

"Please." The spinner pleaded, gesturing back to his young son. "What about my boy?"

Lacey sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her gaze turned to the boy at his father's side. With his dark curly hair and round face he didn't resemble his father much, though his eyes were definitely his father's.

"Five minutes." She said finally. "No more."

The spinner was smiling at her now, turning to his son to tell him to stay outside before turning and making his way into the tavern. This wouldn't end well. She could tell as much. The Pirates were already three drinks in, with their usual wench companion at their side. With a sigh, she turned to his son. Baelfire, if she remembered correctly. He paid her no mind, looking into the tavern, searching already for his father. Lacey knew that look in his eye. That look of a runner. That look that said he most definitely NOT be staying there the way his father had told him.

"Come on, Baelfire." Lacey said before the boy could run off. "Let's get you something to eat, yeah?"

The boy nodded, letting Lacey ruffle his hair and lead him to the kitchen where he fetched him bread and water and even snuck him a bowl of lamb stew before anyone could object. Not that they would have anyway. Lacey had never stayed in one place as long as this one, but that in itself came with some perks.

Shouting came from outside the kitchen, and someone stormed in, complaining about the "damn lame fool." Baelfire had tossed away his food and dashed away faster than Lacey could catch him.

"Dammit kid…" She mumbled, moving to push through the crowd that had formed.

She'd missed it, though. The spinner had already shrank back, his...the woman by Baelfire, guiding him out. Lacey gave the boy as encouraging a smile as she could as he glanced back at her. Rumpelstiltskin kept his gaze low as he stumbled out, following them. The crowd slowly disappeared.

"No luck helpin' this time, eh?" One of the waitresses said, nudging Lacey's shoulder.

Lacey snorted. "Come on, Ruby. There's no helping him."

Ruby only hummed as she returned to her work. The pirates were still there, chuckling.

"C'mon Lacey don't give us that look." The Captain said with a frown. "Should we not mess with yer precious spinner anymore?"

"I couldn't care less about him." Lacey said, pushing past him to clear their table. "But I despise cheaters."

"You?" Jones scoffed. "You of all people disapprove of cheating?"

Lacey shook her head. "I know full well of the rumors, pirate. But whether they be true or not, I'm not low enough to sleep with ones bound by marriage. Ones who have a child. No, I do believe those people are the lowest."

Jones fumed for a moment, Lacey's tongue cut him, she knew it. But she didn't say any more as she turned, flicking him with her rag as she resumed her duties for the night. She hadn't been so happy to see them leave, and leave that night in the wee hours of the morning, finally able to get some rest and keep her mind from-

"Rumpelstiltskin?"

He must have been used to keeping out of the way. She barely noticed him sitting on the path that traced the ocean. He didn't look at her right away, and for a moment she thought the morning chill had gotten to him. Finally, though, he turned to her for a moment. She paused, glancing around. The path was deserted. This one always was. That was probably why he liked this spot.

"You should be home." She said, coming to sit beside him. The exhaustion had gotten to her and this was the most convenient spot, she told herself. That was all. As she sat the chill got to her, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around her. "Your hearth has got to be warmer than this."

The spinner only shook his head.

"They didn't hurt you last night did they?"

Another shake of the head. Well, that was good at least. They sat in silence for a moment, the small sounds of the ocean in the morning filling the silence.

"Why are you here?" His voice finally came.

Lacey didn't have an answer. "Why are you?"

Another pause, and Lacey shifted, wondering if he would ever talk to her. She should leave him be. Go home. Back to normal life.

"She wished I'd died." Her head snapped to him. She wasn't looking at him. His eyes were far away, unfocused. "In the Ogres War. That would have given her some honor. But Bae…"

Lacey lifted her hand, placing on his shoulder. He started, his body going tense. She wondered when the last time he'd felt any affection was. Slowly, he seemed to relax, but his eyes were on her. Alert. Like a rabbit caught, trying to see how to escape.

"Never feel any less of a man for putting your child first." Lacey finally said. This time it was her own eyes that were far away, looking beyond the horizon where a gull was soaring, letting the wind carry it. "Baelfire is a lucky boy just for having you. There are...many who'd kill for something as simple as parents."

"Lacey…"

But she was moving now, standing. She didn't back away from him, nor did she look at him as she offered her hand to help him to his feet.

"Go home, Rumpelstiltskin." She said. "You son needs you."

He only nodded, searching her. "Thank you."

With a nod, Lacey was turning away, going back down the path leading to her house. The plan was already forming. She'd gather her things and what little money she had and leave. It was time to move on.

"Wait-!"

Lacey froze as she realized what she'd done. The man to her right, a chubby fellow with a red knit hat stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. Admittedly, she'd caught the hooded figure's wrist without thinking, but oh she shouldn't have done that. That was made completely apparent by the spark of magic she felt from him, and she jerked back as if she'd been burned.

"Do you have any idea who I am, dearie?"

Lacey swallowed. Well. No use cowering now. "I know exactly who you are." She said simply. "That's why you're stuck with me as your server. No one else had the courage to face you."

"One would call it foolishness."

"Yes, well, if you turn him into a toad they're only going to ask me to kick you out." She said, giving him a frown. "We don't want any trouble. Believe me. We have enough of that with the-"

Lacey's thought was cut off by the chorus of hoots that entered the tavern. Lacey groaned as a familiar group of pirates waltzed in. Clearly, she needed to avoid port towns.

"Bloody hell I must be cursed."

"I can help with that, dearie." The Dark One said with a grin. "We could make a deal."

The other man was gone, apparently having been shooed away, leaving only Lacey and the dark sorcerer who refused to let his hood down. Lacey snorted, setting a fresh mug of mead down for him.

"No thanks. I'm not that desperate of a soul. I only-"

"Lacey!" Oh lord Jones's voice was already slurring. "Is that you? Be a love and bring us a few drinks eh?"

"So help me Jones don't start tonight!" Lacey called back, but there was none of the usual venom in her voice. She sighed. "Will there be anything else oh great da-"

And for the third time that night, Lacey's thought was cut short. The Dark One had disappeared, leaving only a bundle of golden thread on the table. Lacey snatched it up so quick she dropped her tray of other mugs. It was gold. Real bloody gold. Gold...thread. Well, that was an interesting choice in payment, she supposed. Apt though, given the stories of spinning straw.

"Lacey~!"

With another sigh Lacey turned to face the pirates she'd apparently been cursed to shadow. They were already half drunk, and aside from a few slaps on the wrist they got for being grabby, were the best they'd ever been. At least the blasted woman wasn't there. Still, when Lacey heard tales that morning of The Dark One taking off Jones's hand, she couldn't help but snicker.

"Wait."

Lacey blinked at the hooded figure at her table. Off in a corner, everyone else apparently giving him quite a bit of space. He never took off his hood, but the odd skin of his hands always gave him away. She imagined he was giving her something akin to an innocent look from the darkness of his cloak given the way it tilted at her.

"This is the third tavern you've followed me to." Lacey said, setting his usual mug before him.

"Or perhaps it's simply coincidence." He thrilled back at her in his usual sing-song voice."

"Three taverns isn't a coincidence." She said simply, plopping down in the seat across from him. "Does that even do anything for you? Like, can you even get drunk?"

"You're a curious thing."

Lacey shrugged.

"It warms me." The Dark One said simply. "But no, I can't get drunk."

"Seems useless to be here to me, then." She wrinkled her nose.

"You're here."

"I'm working."

"Ah yes very hard, I can see."

She only grinned at him. "Plenty of us sit with patrons. Besides, I'm sure you've scared away half the business. Like always." She paused, lifting the mug he's all but ignored to lift it to her own lips. "Why are you stalking me, Dark One?"

"For the service, obviously."

"Says the man who can summon the highest quality wine he wants whenever he so wishes."

"Perhaps I just like you."

"I certainly like that reason a bit better. I still have to wonder why…"

"Perhaps you're actually following me." He said, his hood tilting to the side as she took another sip of the mead. "You do seem to be everywhere."

"Perhaps you're simply part of my curse." She teased. "Seeing as I don't plan where I go it has to be the other way around."

"Why do you move so much?"

The question gave Lacey pause. It seemed almost sincere. Not in his usual sing-song tone but rather a deeper one. Almost a whisper. It was the closest thing she'd heard to a human voice come from him.

"It's better for business." Lacey said simply. "If I stay in the same tavern they get comfortable with me. Get used to me. Stop tipping."

"You're saving up for something." Lacey nodded. "What?"

"I want to stop moving."

He seemed startled by this given the way he seemed to flinch back. "You need a...a home."

"Gotta find one first." Lacey said. "If I'm making a bit of coin and golden thread along the way what's the harm?"

"You've no life? No friends?"

"You're awfully curious now." Lacey said flatly, frowning at him over the lip of the mug that was now hers.

The high pitch in his voice was back. "I know a desperate soul when I see it, dearie. I simply have to find a deal you'd make."

"I don't want any deals." Lacey said. "I have no life, and the one friend I had no doubt ran in he had any lick of sense."

"Surely you'd want to find him."

"I already know where he is."

His hood tilted at her, and Lacey grinned as she knocked back the rest of her mug. "Come on. Golden thread? How long did you honestly think you could hide behind that hood, Rumple?"

"Get out!"

Lacey paid no mind to The Dark One's growling as she placed the tea tray on the table. The tower he insisted on working in was always drafty, the table covered in books and potions and magic supplies, and the walls had the occasional cobweb. Still, there was always a place for the teaset.

"What are you working on?" Lacey asked as she began pouring his tea.

Rumpelstiltskin frowned at her from across the table as he read over what seemed to be a scroll. "A curse." He finally said.

"Oh?" Lacey asked. "Who for? One of the new kingdoms? They all run together…"

"Something like that." He took the tea from her, his attention shifting away from his work. "Honestly, dearie three hundred bloody years you had to perfect this recipe and your tea is still awful."

"I'm not good with something that doesn't have a bite. So. The curse. What's it do?"

He paused, and with a wave of his hand, the scroll holding the curse was gone, and he was pulling her into his lap. "Nothing for you to worry over."

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're trying to distract me."

"I thought it was the other way around."

"I still have chores to do…"

He cut her words off with a kiss. Deep and passionate, she was moaning before she realized what had happened.

"You make a rubbish maid." Rumpelstiltskin whispered, sending a chill up her spine as his fingers wrapped in her brown curls.

Already Lacey could feel the fire stoking inside her. Heart thudding. Breath coming quick. She was helpless under his fingertips, something only her spinner can make her.

"Later." She began, leaning up to brush her lips against his. "You'll have to tell me."

"Of course, love." He promised, distracting her with his fingers against her scalp. "Of course…"

"They want me to kick you out."

Mr. Gold's eyes flickered to the brunette at his table. She was completely out of place in the bar. Something in him screamed at him that it had to be wrong, but for as long as he could remember Belle worked in The Rabbit Hole, and for as long as he could remember she hated it.

"Really?" He said, his eyes going back to his glass of scotch. "I haven't even finished my glass yet. That's a new record."

Belle shifted her weight from one foot to another. From behind them there was hooting from the table Jones and his bunch was sitting at, and the girl cringed. "Mr. Gold please help me out here. We don't want any trouble."

"You hate it here." Gold snapped back. "What do you care?"

Belle paused, looking offended, as if she were about to tell him off. Yes, that felt better. But then she deflated. "The tips are good. I'm saving up to leave."

"Then leave."

"I meant leave Storybrooke."

"Then leave." He repeated, his words firmer.

Someone called Belle's name for service, and she turned halfway before turning back to him. "Mr. Gold. The owners want you out."

"Then why don't they tell me that themselves?" Gold snapped.

"Because I'm the only one you won't take a swing at with your cane."

Gold didn't answer, only threw his shot back. Jones was on his feet now, stepping closer to them, leaning over a table that was between his lot and where Mr. Gold sat. Because it was always a good idea to have something between you and Mr. Gold.

"C'mon Belle! Be a love and bring us a few drinks eh?"

The brunette clenched her jaw, yelling over her shoulder. "So help me Jones don't start tonight!"

Something shifted in Gold. Belle almost never snapped. She was always polite and proper. Open. Welcoming. But no, that wasn't right. She was supposed to be cheeky and guarded. Prickly. Closed to those lucky enough to get a glimpse to see her.

Belle didn't belong here.

"Wait-!" Mr. Gold didn't listen to her protests as he grabbed her hand and hauled her towards the exit. "What are you-?"

"You said you wanted to leave." He said simply.

"My shift isn't over."

"To hell with your shift." Gold said simply, giving her a grin. "I need a maid. Fancy a career change?"

Belle blinked at him, taken aback. Her eyes searched him, looking for a trick that wasn't there. Finally, the all but tore off her apron, tossing it aside as she started up the stairs.

"Aren't you coming, Mr. Gold?" She asked. "We have an employment deal to discuss."

He chuckled. "Aye, dearie. That we do."


End file.
